


Bits and Pieces

by Kitsubasa



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:09:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsubasa/pseuds/Kitsubasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after the fall of the Patriots, Raiden is still unable to integrate with society.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bits and Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> In honour of the release of Metal Gear Rising, I thought I'd post an old fic I wrote back in 2009. As such, some details here and there probably won't mesh entirely with the new canon (I'm only halfway through Rising so I'm unsure how much), but the work itself still reads just fine, so hopefully, it's enjoyable despite any canon-hiccups!

The human body: a phenomena all of its own—it can think, move, feel. It can express complex emotions and desires, enunciate words, interact with others of its kind… But despite all of that, it's still just circuits and wires: switches opening and closing the paths between areas, and a processing unit holding it all together. It's robotic, bio-electric… a glorified computer. It sends millivolts worth of electricity back to the brain when it hits something, and fires off a rhythm through the heart like some kind of clock to keep everything pulsing-- ticking. The eyes register tiny waves which tell us where we are. A computer reads similar waves and turns them into mp3s, or videos.

I've got to just keep telling myself that, whenever I look around this picture-perfect house, so that I don't feel undeserving. I touch a flower in a vase, but I don't feel the nerves seizing up like I used to. John tackles me to the ground and tries to tickle me, in the hopes of hearing a laugh, but gives up when he realizes that there's metal through that taut layer of skin. One nick, one cut, and you could tear it away completely—there're still those unnatural bumps and indentations from my exoskeleton. Snake and Otacon envy me, the perfect life they think I'm leading now. My sweet, playful son, my devoted wife… but I haven't escaped this hell just yet.

In bed each night, Rose runs her fingers along my spine.

"Jack, you've changed," She caresses the joins between each bone like they're some kind of precious metal; gold and silver for her fingers, some heavenly pile of rings and jewels. "How much of you is even you any more?" I'd like to answer, but I can sense this unease in her voice—she doesn't really want to hear the facts about how I'm just a spine and a head now.

"… Bits and pieces," Sometimes I wonder how she can even lie next to me. I must be cold—all that metal, it'd be freezing against her skin. But still, she worms her arms around me and squeezes me close. I don't sleep. I can't sleep. So I just wait for morning, night after night, with Rose draped over me.

Otacon brings Sunny to visit every few weeks. She plays with John—they watch cartoons, eat candy, fiddle with Sunny's laptop. Like normal kids should. John deserves the childhood I never had—free from narcotics and cheap western movies, eating real food, seeing through clean eyes. He has the right to friends like Sunny. But it doesn't stop me from feeling jealous of him.

While the children play, Otacon, Rose and I drink coffee and talk about Snake. Or at least, they do. I find myself endlessly staring into space, my eyes glazed over. I can't drink with them—it'll fry my circuitry. I can't talk with them—I pity myself too much to care about anyone else. Besides, it's hard to imagine Snake off in a hospital somewhere, hooked up to life support systems.

"They say he's only got a few weeks to live," Otacon pulls his glasses off, and rubs a cloth gently against the foggy lenses. He's choking up. "Sunny's taking it so well… better than I am, even." Rose lays her hand comfortingly on his, as he drops his glasses and trips on his next few words.

"Rose, how am I supposed to cope when he's gone?" They end up in a close embrace, Otacon's face covered in tears. Rose is doing her councilor thing. I'm doing my 'get the hell away before you feel something too' thing. We've both got our own ways of dealing with trouble. She rises up to meet it, and I run. I wonder when it's all going to catch up to me.

After our guests leave, I make a point to confront Rose-- each and every time.

"Otacon's gone back to wearing glasses," I note. She sighs, and looks at me disappointedly.

"Jack, you should call him Hal, and… is that honestly the only thing you noticed today?"

"Sunny's got a new computer." I don't want to talk about Snake, or think about him, or even consider the fact he's dying. Heroes don't die. They can't die.

"You—you're unbelievable sometimes!" Her hands close into fists. "Sna—David is dying, and all you care about is Sunny's laptop!" I do care about Snake. I'm just too weak to admit it. If I show that I care, people might expect me to be proactive. People might expect me to see him. Rose turns away, huffing in anger.

"… I said we'd visit David tomorrow. And you're not worming out of it."

And visit Snake we do: again, and again. Rose takes him flowers and cards, and gives him someone to chat with. I stand quietly in the corner, my eyes never leaving his. He talks to Rose—hesitantly, and with deep breaths between every word—but he watches me. And, on one occasion, Rose leaves the room for five minutes to find Snake a glass of water.

"Raiden," He rasps, motioning for me to come closer. I do—but it takes me far longer than it should. Snake has shrunken out of his skin. He's a shell of his former self—it's only been a few months since the events on Outer Haven, but he looks ten years older. "How've you been?" His hand finds mine, and for the first time I'm glad I have no nerves. If I did, I'd have to feel that paper-thin skin, and the weak muscles underneath. He's the same man I fought alongside five years ago at Big Shell in spirit, but in body he's nothing more that a hospitalized soldier close to death—and not even the death he deserves. He's dying the death of a civilian, claimed by age in a small bed in some faceless hospital.

"I've been fine." My face is totally straight, and my dead gaze is unwavering. Snake laughs at me, closing his eyes for the first time since I arrived.

"Raiden, you're not a good liar. I know you and Rose have been having… difficulties," He tries to sit up, and fails. I try to keep the pity out of my eyes, but it's in them now and it's not getting out. Plain for the world to see is the fact that I pity Solid Snake, the greatest soldier that ever lived. But he takes it all in his stride, sends me a look that says I'm used to that, and continues to speak. "I can't help you come to terms with your body, and I can't tell Rose to let you wait this phase out—we both know how ignoring each other turned out for you and her last time--, but I can give you my thoughts.

"Raiden, your body is going to last forever. You're never going to grow old and die, like the rest of us, and there's no way you can change that. And while I'm sorry that things have turned out that way for you, you've got to try and find the silver lining in being a cyborg ninja," Inhaling deeply, Snake pauses, coughs, and continues. "I'm jealous of all the time you've got to spend with Rose, for instance. Otacon, Sunny and I only have about a fortnight left together, but you've got thirty—forty odd more years to spend with her. You have so much time." Another cough— dry, hoarse. He's on his last legs… He's right when he says he's only got a fortnight left. And that's at best.

"Raiden…" He stops to think. "No, Jack. Jack, treasure the life Dr. Madnar gave you. Appreciate the time you've got left. Several years ago, a man threw away his dog-tags and decided he'd dedicate himself to finding his own path with his family in tow. You're swerving back onto the right track.

"Jack… Lightning takes hundreds of wrong turns before it makes it to the ground. Don't give up when you're so close now." Pushing my hand away, Snake smiles at me feebly, slipping into a quiet sleep. I wander away from the noisy machines, and out of his room—across the hall, down a staircase, through doorways and archways. At some point in my journey, I start to run—I don't know where, I don't know why. My feet hit the ground rhythmically. My artificial heart pumps my artificial blood loudly through my artificial chest. I'm alive. I'm alive.

I don't stop running until I'm home: two hours later—or so the fading sunlight says. It's getting into the evening now. Rose's car is tucked neatly into our garage, and chalk drawings are etched all over the pavement. Meryl and Johnny's truck is pulled up in our driveway. I'd nearly forgotten that they'd been looking after John. I fold my arms and sneak in through the front door. It's unlocked. Rose is careless.

The entranceway is empty—and too quiet for my tastes. A single block of lego is lying at the bottom of our staircase. From the next room over, I hear a sudden burst of high-pitched laughter. With silent footsteps, I make my way towards the sound. Johnny has evidently been trying some sort of fancy trick—there's a pancake on his face.

"It usually looks cooler than that, John. It's just that I'm a little tired tonight, that's all," A sly wink at Meryl. He casually peels the pancake off, and sets it back down on his plate.

"Here you are, Meryl," Rose hands her a cup of coffee, and seats herself next to John. "I'm sorry if it's a little strong, but I ran out of milk."

"No, it's fine," Johnny looks down at his own drink, apparently somewhat guilty. Typical Johnny—drowns his coffee in milk, and so everyone else has to deal without. His eyes abruptly flick up to see me at the door.

"Jack," He whispers. Activity in the room halts. Rose's face is torn between anger, relief and sadness.

"Took you long enough," She says to me, in a frighteningly neutral tone.

I don't tell her what happened. I don't tell any of them what happened. It's between Snake and I—the conversation where he saw through all my thinly-veiled self-pity and tried to make me see how lucky I was. How lucky I am. Whether his attempts worked or not is up for debate.

Rose and I don't talk properly for the next few days. She's still angry I ran away after seeing Snake. I never make conversation anyway. We both just entertain John, and try and stay away from each other. He asks us what's wrong, at one point.

"Jack and I just need some time apart," John looks confused, but says nothing. I'm glad he's not trying to make us explain. I don't want to have to watch Rose telling him all about my apathetic nature.

Around about that time, she stops asking me questions about my exoskeleton. Ever since I came back home several months ago, she's been full of them, but they've apparently all dried up. For some reason, I miss them. They took my mind off how I get so tired of being in this inorganic body, and let me see how Rose looked on it—as a miracle invention that'd saved me from the Patriots.

When she finally goes back to talking to me, we're both stuck on one object of conversation: Snake. Rose talks about how to help Otacon after he goes. I talk about my experiences fighting with him. I think that it gets on Rose's nerves, how my head's always stuck in the past, reminiscing on old times. For so long, I didn't have a future… And naturally, I've got to find a way to talk like I think I do: for Rose's sake.

Fifteen days after that visit, well past midnight, we get the call. Otacon does more crying than talking. He tells us he's not looking forward to morning—telling Sunny, breaking her heart. Rose constantly reassures him—'David led a good life, Hal', 'Sunny'll be okay, she can take it', 'Jack and I'll visit tomorrow'. When I look into her eyes, I can tell she's doing me a favor by postponing our meeting with Otacon until a more reasonable hour. If it was her choice, we'd be there already. She knows I'm going to need a while to get the idea. That it'll take until at least midday for me to realize that Snake is gone.

We see Otacon, they cry, I watch from the background. I'm that pale apparition behind them, fading into the scenery.

"Rose, this is too much," Otacon sobs into her. "Why does everyone I love always—always—" He lets out a loud cry, as Rose winds her arms around him, trying to keep him from losing it completely. I'm cold. I'm emotionally dead. All I can do is turn away, and seek refuge in another room. But deep down, I feel a spark.

_Lightning takes hundreds of wrong turns before it makes it to the ground._

This can just be another of my wrong turns. I've taken a dead-end path, and now I have to retrace my steps. One step, two step—I'm back through the doorway. Three step, four step—Otacon and Rose are still holding each other, trying to get through losing one of their closest friends. Five step, six step—Rose looks at me, momentarily.

_I am lightning, the rain transformed._

Staring Hal straight in the eye, I pry him off Rose, hold him at arms length, and muster a smile—a real, honest-to-god smile.

"Hal… I'm sorry about David."

_My lightning bolt has returned to earth_


End file.
